


baby it's cold outside

by Tuesdayschildd



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas Party, F/M, Keg Party, Office Party, Varchie!Centric, cheese and smut, did i mention there is a keg, if somebody isnt getting laid is it really a christmas party?, wheres the wine for all this cheese, yep more pwp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tuesdayschildd/pseuds/Tuesdayschildd
Summary: The annual Mitchell-Klinger Christmas office party is not for the faint of heart. Newbie Veronica Lodge is about to find out what it's all about. And if she happens to discover a bit more than expected, who can blame her?
Relationships: Archie Andrews/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48
Collections: Home for the HoliDale





	baby it's cold outside

_. . . . ._

Tinsel spills out of the collar of Dilton’s sweater like limp spaghetti, long forgotten now hours after Reggie wrestled it in there a few minutes after the official kick off of Mitchell-Klinger’s annual Christmas party. 

Fifty or so people are packed into the main reception and secretarial area like sardines in a tin can. The advertising office is stuffy on the 34th floor, somebody only moments ago finally thinking of cracking a window to let in Manhattan’s chilled air. There are more empty bottles of mid-shelf champagne lying around than beer cans at a frat party, and a layer of _sticky_ on every flat surface. Somebody had the foresight to cover the work areas with plastic table cloths. 

If Veronica hadn’t been prepped for what was likely going to take place tonight, she wouldn’t have believed her own eyes.

“Kevin’s been playing Santa for much too long,” Midge elbows Veronica in the side as she slurs her words, yelling unnecessarily over Bruce Springsteen’s voice coming out of the audio system. “Tell him it’s my tuuuuurn.”

Veronica recrosses her legs from her perch on a short filing cabinet, looking over with amusement as _Santa Claus_ ceremoniously loses his shirt again, dollar bills stuffed into the waistband of his pants. She sips her whiskey, grateful for Betty’s foresight in stashing the bottle in the drawers beneath her. Champagne gives Veronica a headache. 

“Why don’t you ask him if you can be _Mrs. Claus_?” Veronica suggests. She watches amusingly as Midge’s eyes light up with what little energy the booze hasn’t stolen a second before she darts around a dozen people over to the strip show.

“That was clever.” Betty appears at her side with a half eaten cookie and the corners of her eyeliner smudged now hours into the evening. “She’ll never get that hat off Kevin’s head.”

They both watch as Midge jumps right on Kevin’s back, toppling them both to the ground. Behind them, Dilton is lifted up by his ankles and dangled over a keg, nearly run over by Reggie pushing Moose in a rolling desk chair, tied up with twinkle lights. 

“We’re just short one lawnmower and couple of severed limbs, and then we can call this a real Mad Men’s Christmas party.”

Betty snorts loudly at Veronica’s joke and accidently spits pieces of sugar cookie out across the floor as she continues to chuckle. “Oh my god, I’m sorry,” she apologies, wiping her mouth and using the toe of her shoe to spread out the crumbs, smudging them into the carpet as if it makes it look cleaner. “I swear I’m not that drunk.”

Veronica arches a perfectly manicured brow, smiling knowingly her new friend and accusingly eyeing the cup in her hand.

Betty shrugs before taking a sip of her drink, smiling. “Okay, maybe I am.”

“I swear, B. I have never seen such rowdiness from a group of grown ass adults.” Veronica adjusts her necklace, twiddling with the pendants as she watches on in fascination. Someone has left a secretary’s chihuahua sleeping in a half empty chip bowl, and Veronica’s been keeping an eye out for its safety. 

“You should see us on July 4th,” a deeper voice joins their conversation. 

The sound curls her toes. 

Veronica doesn’t have to turn to know to whom it belongs. _Archie Andrews_ , Boy Wonder in the sound department.

Since her hire as the new head of Public Relations at the end of summer, Veronica has run into the hottie in the break room a few times in the last few weeks. If he’s not refilling the coffee pot or sheepishly wiping down the counter, he’s blushing at her confident lingering gaze. She’s greeted him good morning countless times while blowing across the top of her steaming mug, waiting for him to buck up the courage to ask her out. 

“Oh yeah?” She asks, turning to allow Betty access to the drawers below her for the bottle of Jack, and comes face to face with the dreamy man. Possibly due to the holiday haze or the peppermint coma she’s in, he looks even more attractive tonight, if it’s possible. 

Archie has followed the party rules, wearing a terrible green Rudolph sweater complete with a flashing plastic red nose. He clutches a red cup, opting for the cheap beer instead of the bubbly drink that seeps out of the majority of party goers pores.

Veronica holds her cup out for Betty to refill and adjusts her candy cane headband with her other hand, the only slightly tacky Christmas-y article of clothing she owns. Hearing Betty go on and on about how seriously the office takes the end of the year gathering, Veronica figured she should at least look a little festive even if she refused to buy an ugly sweater. She had managed to talk herself into a sleeveless red dress that’s been hiding in the back of her closet, a style a bit out of season, but still occasion appropriate.

“Wait until you see the fireworks.” Archie says simply.

Betty drunkenly snorts again, collapsing against the filing cabinet to try to stifle her laughter before she leans over to Veronica’s ear. “Please just put him out of his misery. It’s painful to watch.”

Veronica pulls the bottle out of Betty’s hand, quickly filling up the blonde’s glass and then kicking the woman lightly on the butt with the toe of her shoe to scoot her away. 

“Saaaaaanta Claus is coming to town,” Betty sings along with the music, twirling away from them with her refilled cup on her way back to the display of snacks.

“What I’m really curious to know,” Veronica starts, ignoring the innuendo Betty couldn’t. “Who decided the Christmas party should be at the office?” 

“We used to have it out at a nice place every year.” Archie leans against the desk next to her, joining her in watching the crowd. “But we were banned from so many restaurants that we quit and started having it here.

“And don’t worry,” He leans in closer to her, lowering his voice as if telling a secret. “The office pays the cleaning company triple for the weekend.”

It makes sense, watching the pack of drunken animals in front of her, that they are better off partying in their own space than out in public. Veronica’s assistant, Miriam — a grandmother of six — limbos beneath a red feather boa on top of the conference room table while clutching two champagne glasses. 

“One year, the law firm upstairs was having a party too, and they called the cops on us for the noise.” Archie chuckles, remembering. “Since then we always check to make sure their party isn’t the same night.”

“Well, nobody could ever accuse you all of not having fun.” She sips her drink again, letting the burn linger on her tongue for a moment. She’s had a few, not nearly as many as the majority of the staff. But if she drinks much more, she’ll be feeling it in the morning. 

“Are you not having fun?” Archie asks, ducking down a little to catch her gaze, a playful smile on his face.

“Plenty,” she replies. “I’m making bets with myself on who’ll puke first.”

“Come on, wallflower.” He takes her drink before setting setting both down and offering his hand. “You can’t say you’ve been to a Mitchell-Klinger party if you’re just decorating the furniture.”

The music switches to something more upbeat when she’s pulled off the cabinet and Veronica is caught a little off guard when Archie sweeps her up into a promenade position, steering them between two desks before lifting a hand and pushing her into a turn. 

She laughs as she finds her way back around, clumsily bumping into him to stop her momentum.

“You can dance.” She states with a little question. 

She didn’t take him for a dancer, and despite both of them being tipsy, he moves her around gracefully.

“You sound surprised.” He spins her again with ease. “My mom taught me some moves.”

This time when she finds herself face to face with him again, she has to use two hands on his chest to steady herself. “Woah there, Fred Astaire. I require a little warning in my current state.” 

She can feel how rock solid he is beneath his sweater, and suddenly she’s much too warm and his face is much too close for her current state of inebriation to process.

He takes pity on her, bringing his hands lightly to her waist, and gently swaying them side to side. 

Despite the odor of spilled drinks, drunk bodies, and warm shrimp cocktail in the room, she can smell his cologne — an earthy, comforting scent that leaves her wanting to bury her face in Rudolph’s body.

When she tilts her head up, Archie can’t help staring at her lips. Her signature rouge is fading from the corners, and she feels so tiny between his hands. He has a thousand questions.

_Where were you born? What’s your favorite food? What color panties are you wearing? Will you marry me?_

Before he can form any of them, she kicks her heels off, suddenly dropping three inches in height before she steps purposefully onto the tops of his shoes. Reaching up, her hands wind around his neck with purpose and she pulls him flush to her front in one smooth move. The suddenness of her soft curves against his hard belly is sobering.

“Teach me.”

If someone told him that before tonight was over, Veronica Lodge — easily the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, dolled up in the most stunning red dress he’s ever seen with her sexy scent wrapping around his shoulders like a scarf — would be intimately pressed up against him, he wouldn't have worn this sweater.

Archie manages to navigate in small circles as they try not to smile too hard at the absurdity of their surroundings, not quite hearing the crowd chanting for Moose as he fails to chug another bottle of champagne. They ignore Kevin as he gets up on the conference table with Miriam who wraps her red boa around his shoulders suggestively.

Archie wants to lean down to kiss her so badly, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip like she’s trying to hold herself back as well. A sober part of him doesn’t want their first kiss to be in front of this room of buffoons, but his restraint is fading.

If he happens to _not-so-accidently_ steer them towards a quiet hallway, he’s not sorry.

“Is that Rudolph’s nose?” She asks, voice low and sexy, fingers teasing into his hair. “Or are you just happy to see me?

He chuckles when he realizes that at her current height, the plastic red accessory on his sweater is sitting snug between her cleavage.

“Seems somebody else is happy to see you.” His arms wrap fully around her lower back, pulling her up even closer until there isn’t any question where he wants this to go. “Can’t take him anywhere.”

She fits so perfectly like this. He feels like his chest is going to crack in half if she stays wrapped up around him. The group down the hall starts singing as the space between their mouths quickly disappears, until she can feel his breath on her face, until her tongue brushes ever so slightly against his lips when it darts out to wet hers.

There is nothing gentle about how she practically climbs him to press her mouth firmly to his or how her back meets the wall abruptly as he presses her against it. She’s stuck between two hard planes, fingers weaving into his mess of red hair like they want to move in permanently. 

Sleigh bells, carolers, or hoards of drunken off-key coworkers can’t distract Archie from the quiet noises Veronica makes when his tongue finds hers. 

She can feel her pulse between her legs as her dress bunches up high on her thighs. When his hands meet skin beneath it, she realizes with a start that they’re in the damn hallway at work. Despite everyone’s current state of shitfaced, she’s not ready to give them this kind of show.

She pushes him back by the shoulders as she has nowhere to escape on her own. Archie’s confused, his adorable lips already tinted rouge when he pulls away, but he places her gently down on the ground like the gentleman he is.

She grabs his hand, pulling him deeper down the hallway and opening doors, one after another, until she finds whatever it is she’s looking for, pulling him inside what turns out to be a storage closet full of shelves and boxes of paper products. She flicks on the light.

He’s secretly glad for the fluorescence. He needs the visual to keep reminding himself this isn’t a dream.

“I don’t normally do this.” She admits, pushing him back against the closed door and pulling his sweet lips down to hers for another searing kiss that leaves him breathless. 

He can’t enough of her taste. Peppermint and whiskey. And if it’s not intoxicating enough all on it’s own, he’s got a front row seat to the alluring scent of her perfume as he gets busy discovering all the spots on her neck that make her moan when his lips find them. 

He helps her lift off his sweater, grieving for the moments away from her skin as it goes over his head, leaving his chest bare. “Rudolph isn’t scandalized if that’s what you’re worried about,” he reassures.

“He should be.”

He flips their position, holding her up against the door with his body before greedily sliding both hands up the smooth skin of her thighs until he’s underneath her dress. Her teeth nibble his bottom lip and distract him for a moment until she’s soothing it over with her sweet tongue. 

He’s going to combust.

His fingers tease the crease where her legs meet her hips before sliding underneath the lace of her panties, discovering just how excited she is for him before he makes the decision to pull them down her thighs. 

Her hands that had been tracing the hard lines of his abs quickly find the zipper of his pants, pushing the garment and his boxers down his hips in one quick motion.

Her lips still on his, pulling away and breathing hard. “Please tell me you have a condom.”

“In my wallet, back pocket.” He rests his hands against the wall over her head as she searches for the item quickly.

Her raven hair is tousled, lips smudged. Eyes bright and chest flushed. The sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He’s going to marry this woman. No doubt about it.

When she finds the condom, she chucks his wallet on the ground without care and steps out of her panties. Her fingers make quick work of the wrapper and he doesn’t have time to process the feeling of her hand wrapping around his erection before she puts it on and hikes a leg around his thigh. He takes the cue, lifting her effortlessly as he’s suddenly sheathed inside her warmth. 

It all happens so quickly. 

When he hears her breath catch in her throat, he stills, shifting her weight to one hand so that he can bring the other up to her cheek. She’s mesmerizing like this. Heavy lids and open mouthed.

Pausing, he brushes his thumb over the perfect line of her jaw, in awe. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He mumbles into her lips, brushing her hair back away from her face so that he can see the twinkling in her eyes more clearly in the fluorescent lights.

“Don’t get all sappy now, Archiekins,” she teases breathlessly, sinfully tightening her legs around his waist. “We can do all that later.”

She’s not sure which part does it. The alcohol running through her veins. His warm breath on her neck. The murmur of her name sounding so gorgeous in her ear. The slide of his hard heat deep inside her. The friction of his pubic bone hitting her right where it should, over and over again until she can’t help gasping with each movement. 

She comes so quickly. She’s almost embarrassed until he’s cursing into her neck, hips faltering as he follows her seconds behind. 

Complete bliss.

She’s grateful for his strength as he takes a minute or two to let them both come down from their highs before gently lowering her to her feet.

Any post coital awkwardness is dispersed when he catches her in another kiss while they readjust themselves. Everything is tucked away and unless somebody really studies them, no one will be the wiser.

“I’ll just run to the restroom quickly, and meet you back out there?” He opens the door for her after she smooths out her dress and adjusts her headband. 

He’s even more adorable now with his reddened cheeks and out of control hair. She can’t wait to dive her hands back into the strands and really spend some time studying the planes of his abdomen.

“ _ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMASSSS IS….YOUUUUUUUUUUU.”_

They cringe as the croak of dozens of voices hits them. They discover a short stride into the hallway that somebody has rolled Moose down it, still tied up with the string of lights, snoring away loudly.

“On second thought,” Archie adds after a second of reflection. “How about you, me, and a pizza around the corner?”

She’s going to marry this man. No doubt about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas friends!
> 
> This one is for my golden girls, Fran, Emily, and Vik. Hope Christmas is everything merry and bright for my three best girls. Couldn't have done 2019 without you.


End file.
